There was a possibility.

What little of him that remained sensed it. He'd taken the precaution of leaving a seed… a tiny, tiny bit of his darkness, within the boy. If the very worst happened, that seed could grow and sprout and become himself again. He hadn't actually thought it would happen but he was always thorough.

But the boy was wary. He thought he was just troubled by the previous possession, but that posed a problem. He would not listen to the subtle whispers the darkness in his mind tried to give. It was proving quite difficult. For a time, as Riku had taken in the darkness and even taken his physical form, he had thought he was gaining ground. But that had all been lost.

But now there was another of the boys' bloodline, and close. A full brother. The connection would help, but he would need something a little more direct… as soon as the brother's blood was spilled, he could make the jump.

It would eventually happen. There were always accidents.

"I can't believe how much you're helping me. You don't have to do that, you know?" Riku was leaning against the wall, watching his brother Risu chop vegetables. Risu looked up with a smile.

He was feeling surprisingly content about his life. Not perfectly content… that would have required drugs… but content. He spent most of his days fixing cars and working on custom bikes and occasionally dealing with customers. The only kindled his ever present anger was the customers. In almost every way, the unhappy tension he had lived with all his life had decreased. It was a good thing.

And Riku was perhaps one of the best things that had happened to him. When he had arrived, Riku had been scraping by trying to pay for his summer course as well as keep a roof over his head and food on the table. He could have asked for help, but Riku was determined to finally be independent. From Sora and Kairi, at least. But when his brother had turned up, wanting to know him and willing to pay half the rent, who could say no?

Risu had ended up paying for far more than that, but didn't care. He had nothing but contempt for extreme luxuries, so good food and a nice place to sleep were more than enough. And books. Fiction had been outlawed in his world unless it was based on fact, and that more than anything had fueled his current addiction to it.

Sometimes, though, Riku seemed to feel he was taking advantage of his brother and Risu didn't feel that way at all.

"But I like to cook." He responded truthfully, and tossed the carrots into the stew. "It's the only way I get to play with knives." It was remarkable, really, that he could even make a joke about his non-violence conditioning. In the past just thinking about it had brought forth a cold, bitter anger. It still did, but now Risu was seeing the black humor in it. "Ow!" He frowned at the blood welling up from his finger, then wiped it off. The flesh knit back together as he and Riku watched.

"That's really freaky, you know. People shouldn't heal like that." Riku had only the vaguest idea how the nanite systems Risu had mentioned worked. But he knew they were responsible for the healing, as well as his brother's speed, agility and amazing strength.

"I can't imagine why not." Was Risu's only response. He wasn't about to tell Riku that he had used to… experiment with what he could do to his own body. Self-inflicted wounds were not prevented by his conditioning, and he'd found he rather enjoyed the pain. No, that wasn't something Riku could understand. Frowning, Risu suddenly put a hand to his forehead. There was a pain there.

But it passed, and he added the potatoes to the stew. "If you want something to eat, you'll have to make a sandwich. This is for supper." It would take hours to cook. Riku blinked, seemingly rousing out of a reverie.

"Oh… yes. Sure, thanks." A bit subdued, Riku got out sandwich meat and bread. Something had happened, he felt. But he had no idea what.

The bit of darkness explored the new mind it had entered, and found itself utterly appalled. If Riku had been difficult, Risu promised to be just as bad.

The explosive anger was kept tightly under control, only unleashed in cold little spurts. It might be possible to fan that anger, but to what purpose? The control was so amazing that the darkness was sure Risu would simply handle it. If all else failed, it would be worth a try, but it would be a clumsy technique at best.

The thought of working with jealousies and insecurities came next, but was quickly rejected. Risu was not Riku. Riku had been a lost boy, competitive with Sora and insecure in himself when the darkness had first encountered him. Risu was not. He was a man full grown, and looked on the world with a cold logic that precluded jealousies. Not that he didn't feel him… the man was human, after all… but jealousy was not a logical emotion to Risu. He would simply work towards getting the thing he envied or resign himself to the fact that it could not be his, then forget about it entirely. And Risu simply did not have any insecurity. He was brutally honest in his appraisal of himself. The darkness tasted his mind and found it almost frightening.

But frustration… ah, frustration. The mind had limits that it wanted to surpass, chafing on itself. Mental conditioning. The darkness had never seen anything like it. It posed problems of its own, especially the peculiar prohibition against violence, but it was also a weak point in the psyche.

The darkness only needed a weak point. But exploiting this one would be very difficult. It would have to consider…